Dental deal

Chapter 2: Lines Drawn The morning sun didn’t seem as gentle as it had yesterday. The rays streamed harshly through the wide clinic windows, making Dr. Alina Moreau squint as she glanced at the patient file in her hands. The name printed in bold on the top left corner made her lips twitch into a confused smirk. Zayne Hart. She hadn’t expected him to show up. After their dramatic emergency encounter the previous night—his shirt soaked in blood, his face pale and full of reluctance—she had assumed that would be the end of it. Most people don’t make appointments with someone they spend the night scowling at. And yet, there it was. He’d booked the 9:30 AM slot. Sharp. Alina straightened her white coat and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She could handle this professionally. A patient was a patient, no matter how difficult. A knock at the door preceded the arrival of her assistant. “Dr. Moreau? Your 9:30 is here.” Alina forced a pleasant tone. “Send him in.” The door swung open and Zayne stepped inside, as casually indifferent as ever. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of a dark green hoodie, hood pulled halfway over his face. He gave the room a glance and then locked eyes with her—cool and unreadable. “You again,” he said, tone flat. Alina smiled, professionally. “Good morning, Mr. Hart. Please, have a seat.” He didn’t move. “Didn’t know you were the dentist here.” “Well,” she said, gesturing to her nameplate on the desk, “it’s written in about three places, but I can understand missing it with all the blood yesterday.” He remained standing. “I think there’s been a mistake.” Alina raised a brow. “Oh?” “I don’t want you as my doctor.” The smile froze on her face. “I came here because the clinic has a good rep. I didn’t know it’d be you. Last night was enough.” Her mouth opened slightly before she could stop it. “Excuse me?” Zayne’s jaw flexed. “Nothing personal. I just prefer doctors who don’t lecture me while I’m bleeding out.” “You were literally refusing care,” she snapped before catching herself. “I was doing my job. I saved your tooth.” “Congrats,” he said dully. “I’m still finding gauze bits in my mouth.” Alina crossed her arms. “Then you should’ve come back for the follow-up—oh wait, you did. And now you’re refusing to sit down.” “I’m just saying, it’s not going to work.” There was a silence thick enough to slice. Alina stepped around her desk, still composed on the outside, though the sting of rejection itched under her skin like a rash. “You’re free to reschedule with another doctor,” she said coolly. “Dr. Pierre is available tomorrow. I’ll have reception handle the transfer.” “Good,” Zayne said, already turning. “Thanks.” He left without another word. The click of the door behind him might as well have been a slap in the face. Zayne didn’t head home. Instead, he wandered until the tightness in his chest threatened to choke him, and then found himself outside an old brick house with peeling green shutters and a flowerpot that hadn’t been watered in weeks. He knocked once. Twice. The door opened, revealing a kind-eyed woman in her sixties wearing a faded apron and a frown of concern. “Zayne?” Miss Rosa said, surprised. “What in the world—?” “I need tea,” he said simply. She stepped aside, waving him in without question. “You look like you bit someone.” “Close.” Inside, the house smelled like cinnamon and sun. Miss Rosa moved to the kitchen while Zayne collapsed onto the couch like a man exiled from battle. “You saw the dentist?” she called. He grunted. “She’s insane.” “That bad, huh?” “She took offense just because I don’t want her poking around in my mouth again.” There was the sound of a kettle clinking and a drawer opening. Miss Rosa returned with a mug, sat beside him, and handed it over gently. “You hurt her pride, didn’t you?” He stared at the tea. “I don’t care.” “Yes, you do. You’re here.” He didn't argue. Across town, Alina stormed into her apartment and kicked off her shoes with unnecessary force. “He refused me,” she told the room. “Flat-out refused. Like I was trying to poison him or something.” She grabbed her phone and hit speed dial. “Hello?” “Tasha,” she hissed. “Emergency.” “Blood? Broken heart?” “Wounded ego.” “I’m on my way.” Ten minutes later, Tasha was seated on the couch with a tub of ice cream between them. “So let me get this straight,” Tasha said between bites, “he came in for an appointment... saw your beautiful face... and went no thanks?” “Exactly!” “Girl, maybe he’s intimidated. You’re brilliant, gorgeous, and scary as hell when someone disrespects a toothbrush.” Alina threw a pillow at her. “He wasn’t intimidated. He was rude. He came in all smug, like I’d tricked him into being there, then acted like I was unfit to hold a drill.” Tasha squinted. “Is he hot, at least?” Alina paused. “I hate that you asked that,” she muttered. “So that’s a yes.” Alina groaned. “That’s not the point! It’s the attitude. He was acting like—like I was a nuisance. Like he couldn’t be bothered.” “And that bothers you?” “I’m not used to being dismissed like that. Especially not when I’m literally trying to help.” Tasha leaned forward. “Sounds like you two have unfinished business.” “No,” Alina said firmly. “We’re done. I’m not chasing after a man-child with trust issues.” “Sounds like someone’s defensive,” Tasha said, wiggling her brows. “I am not—” The phone buzzed with a clinic notification. Another patient. Alina stood, sighing. “Back to work. Maybe someone will appreciate my skill today.” Tasha grinned. “If not, I’ll pretend to have a cavity.” Meanwhile, Zayne sat on Miss Rosa’s porch, watching the clouds. “She’s probably telling someone how arrogant I am,” he muttered. Miss Rosa joined him, knitting in her lap. “You could’ve at least explained yourself better.” “I didn’t owe her that.” “No, but maybe you owe yourself some honesty.” Zayne sighed. “She just… caught me off guard. Last night, everything felt out of control. She was too calm. Too in charge.” “And that scared you?” He didn’t answer. Miss Rosa smiled softly. “People like her challenge your walls, Zayne. That’s not always a bad thing.” He stood. “I need air.” “You need a nap,” she called after him. That evening, Alina stood brushing her teeth, replaying every second of that morning. The way he looked at her—cool and unreadable. Like she wasn’t a person. Just another white coat. She’d worked too hard for that. She’d bled for this career. To be treated like she didn’t belong? She spat into the sink with more force than necessary. Across town, Zayne lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he couldn’t get that look on her face out of his head—the way her eyes had flashed when he rejected her. Not sad. Not shocked. Wounded. He turned over, annoyed with himself. They were strangers. Just two people who clashed. Nothing more. TO BE CONTINUED.